


Can You Legally Cut Someone Off From Caffeine?

by Epi_girl



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Hera and Eiffel are roommates, M/M, eiffels your resident coffee dependent mess, jacobi and maxwell are baristas, mostly - Freeform, obligatory coffee shop au, this is self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 01:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14094453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epi_girl/pseuds/Epi_girl
Summary: In which Jacobi questions how long the human body can go without sleep.And also his feelings, but what else is new?





	1. 1

Tired people in a coffee shop is nothing new.

Especially when you’ve been working there long enough. So it’s no big surprise to Jacobi when a guy who looks like he’s forgotten what sleeping even is practically stumbles through the door at 2 pm, fingers combing through his frizzy dark hair in a desperate attempt to look like slightly less of a train wreck before he walks up to the counter and orders.

What is a little odd is the fact that he orders six large cups of the same type of coffee- black, with an extra shot of espresso in each- in a rambling voice that might be pleasant if it wasn’t accompanied by the sort of confused tone you might hear from a drunk person who’s halfway to blacking out. 

But he walks out the door with an armful of the hot drinks, smiling a little and offering a brisk thank you, so it’s easy enough to assume he’s just doing a coffee run for some people at wherever the hell a guy like that works. (Though he does have to ask why six different people would want the same thing, and a bitter thing at that.)

Oh well. Back to messing with the cash register.

-*-*-*-

The guy comes back again the next day at about the same time, possibly more disheveled than before, _what the fuck_ , and orders the same thing. It’s still strange, but consistent, so maybe it is a coffee run after all.

”Nice day, huh?” He asks, ringing up the purchase as he tries to strike up a little conversation.

There’s a confused jumble of words from the man across the counter as he tugs on the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, before he manages to say “sure is” in a semi-comprehensible voice. 

Jesus Christ, this guy’s a mess.

Sliding the cups across the counter, Jacobi nods, as though this interaction actually resembles communication in any way.

And just like that, the very strange person is gone, and it’s boring in the shop again.

-*-*-*-

The guy comes back day after day, and Jacobi gets to know him a little bit, at least.

He seems to be in college, if the shoulderbag full of textbooks and papers he sometimes wears is any indication, so they’re around the same age. He talks too much, like,  _way_ too much. Seriously, if rambling was an Olympic sport, this guy would have multiple gold medals. He makes enough pop culture references that it’s pretty much impossible to understand what he’s saying without an advanced knowledge of the Marvel cinematic universe and 90’s sitcoms. And to top it all off, Jacobi’s pretty damn sure this guy only sleeps about twice a week.

Essentially: he’s the most interesting thing about Jacobi’s afternoon.

(Also, he probably spends too much money on coffee.)

-*-*-*-

He’s so used to this guy showing up at this point, that as soon as he steps in the door, Jacobi waves in his direction and moves towards the machine to start grinding up the beans. 

He hears an almost grateful sigh to his left as the coffee starts to stream down into the first of six paper cups, the machine making that... loud, whirry sound he’s so accustomed to by now. 

 

Eventually, he slides the drinks across the counter with a joking wink, and the guy gives him a thumbs up in response, placing a couple paper bills in Jacobi’s outstretched palm. 

The guy turns away from the counter and starts to walk towards.... a... booth? What?

He rubs his eyes, and no, he’s not mistaken, that guy is definitely going towards a booth. And now he’s sitting down? Okay then. Maybe he’s just having a meeting here today...?

But no, he flips open a laptop on the table and takes a long sip from one of the cups, perpetually tired eyes fixed on the screen as he starts to type, sliding his wrinkled brown jacket off his shoulders and tossing it onto the seat.

 

_What the fuck._


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maxwell is skeptical and Hera has some questions.

“I’m telling you, Maxwell, the guys a fucking coffee fiend!”

Jacobi’s off work by now, hanging up his stained grey apron as a very tired, probably skeptical Alana Maxwell leans against the wall, arms crossed as she listens to him rant about how this guy consumed _six cups of extra caffeinated coffee, what the fuck._

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand, raising an eyebrow behind her thick-rimmed round glasses, squinting ever so slightly.

”So you’re telling me that a college student drinking an ungodly amount of coffee is... weird? Sounds pretty normal to me.”

He flaps his hands for a moment, stumbling to find the right words.

”No, no, he’s been ordering that almost every day for weeks, and I think he just drinks it all! How the fuck is he not dead yet, that can’t be healthy!”

Maxwell snorts a little at that, running a hand through her long, strawberry blonde hair absently. “You’re not exactly the best judge of healthy behaviour, you know.”

He huffs, pulling on a worn-out corduroy jacket. “Hey, I only forgot to sleep for a couple days! Besides, it was finals week, leave me alone.”

She shakes her head, standing up straight, though she’s still tiny in comparison to her friend. “If you say so.”

Jacobi follows her out the door with a mock-offended gasp as she shoves her hands into her pockets, grinning just a little. “You’re the worst, Maxwell.”

She winks up at him, tongue poking out from between her teeth. “You know you love me.”

 

”Not anymore I don’t!”

”Oh please, that’s what you say every day.”

-*-*-*-

Eiffel almost skips into his room, hood pulled up as he bobs his head to an imaginary beat. Thank the lord for that sweet, sweet caffeinated bean juice, he finally finished that stupid paper. It really shouldn’t take so long to write 2000 words.

There are footsteps coming towards him as he flops down facefirst on his bed, bag tossed lazily aside into the clutter on his side of the room. At least Hera’s given up on trying to make him clean up his section. Speaking of which...

”Eiffel, why are you wearing shoes in bed?” Right on cue. 

He rolls over, facing upwards with a joking smile plastered over his features. 

“Because it’s efficient?”

”Or you just forgot basic manners again.” She sighs. “Put them over by the door, you idiot, you’re going to ruin the sheets.”

”Fine, _mom_.”  Eiffel begrudgingly rises to his feet, kicking off his untied sneakers beside the door without much thought as to where they might land, pretty quickly collapsing back onto his mattress as Hera cocks an eyebrow down at him, hands resting on her hips.

”Where were you, by the way?”

Whoops. He hadn’t come back with the coffee this time around, since he’s been asked quite a few prying questions about it. His roommate isn’t exactly great at letting strange things go. But truth be told, he hasn’t really thought this whole scenario through, so he’s gotta think fast, something convincing-

“I was at a... study... group?”

”You’re a horrible liar, Eiffel.”

”I know.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fun to write lol

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what im doing but neither do these disasters


End file.
